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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753980">Sonia y Danilo</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniehayden/pseuds/bonniehayden'>bonniehayden</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Football RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, there are some (former) players from RM but I'm too lazy to tag everybody</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:35:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,733</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonniehayden/pseuds/bonniehayden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Within hundreds of my Sergio/Luka works, Sonia y Danilo is my favourite brain baby. So I translated the 1st chapter to English; it's originally written in Chinese: https://daidai340.lofter.com/post/1fcc8ee8_12a681985<br/>I apologize if there're any grammar problems that I couldn't spot out, for English is my second language.</p>
<p>Sonia y Danilo has a very simple plot but with an undertone of dark humour. It was me poking fun of the obsession on masculinity and on the (shitty) ideal of marriage in men's football. I think it's the best choice for them to achieve both by letting the boys marry each other. </p>
<p>I don't want the file buried in my folder, but I'm also not sure if anyone would love to read the whole 3 chapters, so I'm posting what I finished translating so far and I'll come back again. Thank you :^)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luka Modrić/Sergio Ramos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sonia y Danilo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1</p>
<p>“I meant that you can do a little better,” in the narrow space Modric looks straight at Ramos, whom is now folding his arms leaning against the washroom door. “Those rumour news about transferring was enough to handle. If we don’t act carefully, we will be already divorced by the headlines tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>“Those rumors are not my fault.” Ramos shrugs and turns to leave.</p>
<p>Modric grabs his wrist sharply. “Sergio, tell me what’s wrong. Aren’t we doing fine as ever?”</p>
<p>Ramos stares at the door panel and does not answer. Soon a close voice following with knocks, recognized by the two as their club peer Keylor Navas, approaches from outside, “Sergio, Luka, everything alright? Come on soon, it’s time to enter.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This year’s UEFA Champions League draw and the awards ceremony are not much different from before. The decision of the Croatian winning, that the couple were already notified a few days ago. Ramos gazes at the back of the blonde man sitting in front of him, remembering the earlier day, when Modric told him that he was the first person to know.</p>
<p>Because he’s “the husband”? Ramos feels that his patience is running out to the whole hypocritical performance. This secret of the award is only like another wrinkled paper ball he tossed under the table, piling with many others. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Modric, whom is indeed an impeccably good partner, but...</p>
<p>“The winner is: Luka Modric.”</p>
<p>With applause spread, Ramos watches the named one standing up and swiftly handing the phone from one’s left pocket to him, then turning towards the spotlight.</p>
<p>When the people on stage speaking their rehearsed lines, Ramos warily turns on the phone that he had just received, and watches various messages and notifications flowing up on the screen; obviously some names appeared more than others, he noticed. There are also texts from “some names” he saw written in Croatian, the language he followed to understand bits and pieces in the past few years. And he is not pleased with the pieces he can read.</p>
<p>After the ceremony ended, he doesn’t go find Modric, who was surrounded tight by the crowds, but reaches his former teammates David Beckham and Kaka. While they’re chatting, the press couldn’t miss the opportunity to take some new pictures of the everlasting Madridism affections.</p>
<p>Ramos speaks quietly to Kaka. “Sorry, I went to Cristiano, he said he wouldn't think of coming. You know he only does what he wants to do, I can’t talk it over.”</p>
<p>“I know. It doesn’t matter.” The Brazilian shows a short smile. “At the time we divorced, everyone was so shocked. He wouldn’t want to sit awkwardly in front of the public, I assume.”</p>
<p>“Yeah yeah, and the private lives of the players are always so appealing to those people, that’s why we have to be like this.”</p>
<p>Hearing Ramos, Beckham took his shoulder and came looking at him. “What is those words for? Was it anything happened to you and, him?”</p>
<p>“Nothing, we’re good,” Ramos pats Beckham’s laying hand on his shoulder. “Just a bit tired.”</p>
<p>“It's okay for you to be tired in front of us, but better not write it on your face in front of everybody, or you’ll get some remarks on it. Just be the good husband, it’ll be fine.”</p>
<p>Is that fine? To be a good husband, then how would you deal with those texts you just saw? Ramos lifts his eyes on the little lightspot far away in the center of the crowds.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>2</p>
<p>As the usual picture routine going on, Ramos gently puts his right hand on the back of Modric, and the two together face a wall of flashing cameras.</p>
<p>“Sergio, Luka, closer! Pose more intimately, we are a family-oriented magazine!”</p>
<p>“Hold each other closer please! Here!”</p>
<p>These words stirring with all those <em>fine</em> suggestions that he got, boiling sticky, blanked the brain of Ramos from thinking; finally he leans in and kisses on the cheek of the Croatian.</p>
<p>Another turn of glaring flashes go on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you please, tell me first, if you’re gonna do that next time?!” Modric’s words rush over the room immediately following the sound of the door pounding shut.</p>
<p>“Do what?” Ramos puts down his luggage and stands at the entrance.</p>
<p>“To kiss me when the press taking photos. Please tell me in advance. If I had a weird reaction I just wouldn’t know what to do next.”</p>
<p>“So I need to <em>inform</em> you before I kiss you? I am your legal husband or not?”</p>
<p>Modric opens his mouth but cannot start a syllable.</p>
<p>“Save it.” Ramos turns around, opens the door again and steps out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>3<br/>
This August night in Madrid is unexpectedly breezy. Ramos takes a long breathe and sits on a bench in the nearby park, wondering how the two of them came this way to today.</p>
<p>It was not a good start from the first place, he thought. The day they met for the first time, he still remembers it clearly.</p>
<p>“You know we’re signing Luka Modric.” Ramos was called to the conference room right after the training course, and he heard the name in the first sentence.</p>
<p>“I heard. And how about it?” He reclined in the chair with his feet loosing.</p>
<p>“I won't waste fancy words with you, boy. The club decided to let you pair with him.” One of his agents said, crossing two hands together on the table. “Didn’t you tell me that you want to be the next captain? Now it's a chance for you to start setting up a proper image for that. By the way, it could also show a good harmony within the team, accepting new members and all that.”</p>
<p>“The team has its harmony. It is not enough to take him as a friend but I still need to share my bed with him?” Ramos talked back harshly. “And I need to get a nice relationship, get married, <em>then</em> I’m in the line of the captain candidates? You think it’s fair?”</p>
<p>“Sergio, it’s tiring enough to fix you out from those gossips you caused, so please,” the agent leaned forward to stare at him. “If you want to be lined on the waiting list of Captain Real, you need a good face. That is the game. Modric’s prospects in Real are quite expecting, and the two of you being together is only please to see for everybody.”</p>
<p>Everybody, huh. Everybody excluded two. ...Or at least one. But Ramos didn’t argue back again. His eyes dropped low, there was only one glass of water on the table, but there are two people, his own agent and one of the club’s Personnel Department, in front of him. He couldn't choose to spatter either one of them, so he gave up.</p>
<p>“We didn't plan to let you get married right away. Just say you’re in a relationship.” They continued with a softer tone.</p>
<p>“It’s absolutely ridiculous to have an arranged marriage. We’re in the 21st century.” Still he didn't want to give in.</p>
<p>“You have to do this if you want to keep on playing. Modric is a fine choice in all aspects. A reliable and honest guy.”</p>
<p>“Not my type.”</p>
<p>“You may decide that after you met him. He should be arrived here already.”</p>
<p>When they went to open the door, Ramos silently put his both feet back on the ground and straightened his back up. A person almost 2 sizes smaller than him just stepped inside, wearing a simple black T-shirt, and the blond hair is lazily reflecting by the slanted afternoon sun.</p>
<p>“Luka, welcome.” The agent greeted him and shook his hand. “Your manager has told you, I believe? We are talking to Sergio.”</p>
<p>Ramos saw the blond guy still smiling shallowly and gave him a glimpse.</p>
<p>“Yes, he told me. I am fine with it.”</p>
<p>The person in personnel took him to the next room with a stack of paper documents, and Ramos was pulled aside by his agent again. “Well, not your type so I heard? Why are your eyes bulging?”</p>
<p>He pursed his lips shortly. “If I saw him on the app, I could date him.”</p>
<p>“You delete all those apps from your phone, right now.” The agent slapped the back of his neck. “And your current job is to date him and keep him for breakfast in the next morning, instead of running away.”</p>
<p>He sighed and stopped his protests.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>4</p>
<p>“These are our daily fitness equipment, and these for entertainments; … this table tennis, they quite like to play.”</p>
<p>“This is a screening room, where you can watch movies, or matches, for reviewing.”</p>
<p>“Going in this direction is the entrance to the stadium. And that’s our parking space. It is arranged by jersey number. For your own room, it can be requested, if you had any preferences. So, this is mostly everything.”</p>
<p>Being assigned to “guide the new teammate to know the campus”, Ramos took a walk around the Ciudad Real Madrid with Modric, and ended with standing in the balcony of his room pointing directions to the other guy.</p>
<p>“Okay, that means I can ask them to give me the room next to you?” Modric asked, returned to the room viewing around, sat on one side of the bed and bounced for a few times.</p>
<p>“I didn’t know that you are quite straightforward.” Ramos sided by the window and looked at the guy inside.</p>
<p>Modric smiled and stood up, patted Ramos’s arm before he walked out. “It doesn’t mean anything much. I’m rather aware that I can’t compare to those things you went out with before. So don't worry.”</p>
<p>Ramos closed the door behind him and took his shoulder. “You read the news about me?”</p>
<p>“My management people told me about this plan, so I looked you up.”</p>
<p><em>Plan</em>.</p>
<p>Ramos stopped him from the front. “But are you really agree about it? The plan, you called?”</p>
<p>Modric raised his eyes at Ramos, the last beam of sun coming in the corridor made him blink. “I think it’s, I would say, advantageous at least, for everyone, isn't it?”</p>
<p>The Spanish only nodded. Modric could not help but ask, “Do you really dislike me so?”</p>
<p>“No, no, it’s not that I don’t like you.” Ramos quickly waved his hand.</p>
<p>“Then we’re fine.” Modric opened his right hand. “Let's be friends first.”</p>
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